


Call and Answer

by BlaiddDrwg1982



Series: Future Imperfect [4]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-11
Updated: 2017-10-21
Packaged: 2018-12-26 10:29:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 7,651
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12057114
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlaiddDrwg1982/pseuds/BlaiddDrwg1982
Summary: Years passed after the incident that nearly claimed Stiles' life. A new darkness is on the horizon, threatening not just Beacon Hill, but the world.





	1. At the Beginning

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Lidil](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lidil/gifts), [Mulder200](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mulder200/gifts), [groovyger](https://archiveofourown.org/users/groovyger/gifts), [denelian](https://archiveofourown.org/users/denelian/gifts).



> Time to blow the dust off this series. Hoping for frequent updates. Wish me luck. Dedicated and gifted to the people whose feedback and encouragement kept me going through the first part of this series.

It never got boring. 

Running through the woods. 

Feeling the hard packed earth under four mighty paws, flashes of light and colour mixed with the scents and the sounds that came up all around them. Flashes of white and black fur through the trees, followed by one in grey, and others running in a frantic lope, trying their best to keep up with their mated Alphas.

Every now and then the smell of prey wafted through the woods, but they’d fed heartily before this Run, so they let the prey be. The scent of gasoline in the distance signified they were getting close to the border of the property, and getting a bit close for comfort to the main road that brought all manners of traffic through Beacon Hills.

As if thinking with one mind, the pair of wolves cut a hard left, leaving their companions to catch up. A third scent up ahead wafted through the trees. The delegation from LA had arrived early and were joining them in the woods. 

Ordinarily it was a tremendous faux pas to interrupt another’s run, but this interruption was more than welcome. A flash of red appeared in the distance, bringing with it the smells of a city swarming with Humans and Supernaturals.

Coming up on their new companion, the four wolves circled each other in an age old dance that was part ritual, and part greeting. This was the native territory of the Black Wolf of the Valley and the White Wolf of the Wood. They extended rights to the Grey Wolf of the Plain and what amounted to a visitors visa to the Red Wolf of the City. Other wise known as the running grounds of Derek and Stiles Hale-Stilinski, which were extended to Scott McCall, and now permitted access to Deucalion.

Taking the half moment to shift back into human form, they appeared nude, but for a moment. The group that was following behind had bags strapped to their back with clothes for their Alphas. In some senses it was a little degrading being used as the helpers in that sense. But after a few late night runs that lead to early morning breakfasts, it was more of a pain in the ass explaining to the waitress at the diner why you needed to rummage through the lost and found for anything that would cover a grown man’s ass. 

“You made good time.”

Stiles was barely panting, though he had been only moments ago. His eyes stopped glowing and were again ‘human normal.’

“Well, what can I say. When a puzzle like this comes up, you can’t just expect me to sit back and wait can you?”

“No. I mean like, insanely good time. You were already on your way when we phoned you weren’t you.”

Deucalion had the sense to nod and keep his grin to a minimum. Pulling on a pair of running shorts and a tank top, he flashed them a grin that was just on the border of being cheeky. 

“I was more than half way here. I’d received a text message an hour or so before you called.”

“From who?”

Deucalion grinned.

“Your cousin of course. The Witch.”

Stiles sighed softly. Of course she’d have known. She has the most powerful seers in the world last time he talked to her.

“She has a name.”

“Yes. A very delightful tree name in fact.”

Derek shook his head.

“We know that you and Willow are friends Duke. Cut the crap and stop playing coy. What did she tell you?”

“Same thing you’ve heard I would presume. Terrible cataclysm. Factions forming. Supernatural world about to be exposed. Yadda yadda yadda.”

Scott growled slightly under his breath.

“I think that’s worth more than just a yadda yadda yadda don’t you?”

Deucalion raised an eyebrow and shrugged.

“It isn’t the first apocalypse that’s reared it’s ugly head in the last 2 decades, and I sincerely doubt it will be the last. Stiles? You yourself prevented what could have been a catastrophic event not so long ago. And we will do so again.”

Silence fell on the assembled group. Looking between themselves, the enormity of the situation was starting to become clear. But the question of the hour was, what parts did they have to play this time. When they were dealing with the Cherufe, the lines were pretty cut and dry. Then again, Stiles also tool away most of their ability to make any decisions when he sacrificed himself to stop her. 

Obviously he got better.

The fact remained, they all felt a gathering storm in the distance and it was pulling their friends and family closer. It was anyone’s guess how this was going to end, but to make matter even worse, they didn’t even know who they were up against.

Starting the slow walk back to the house, the four assembled Alphas lead their respective pack mates back to what was looking less like a house, and more like a fortified bunker. Stiles Dad, Step Mom, and sister had moved in 6 months ago. Scott’s Dad moved in 4 months later. Lydia and Jordan had taken up residence in one of the far wings of the new home, and the rest of the pack and their loved ones were filling the other rooms. Isaac and Chris Argent were come and go as they pleased, but it was more time spent here than at their apartment down tow. Jackson and Ethan had even gone to ground at the new Hale-Stilinski Manor. Allison was running point with Willow on the other side of the planet, trying to get as much information as they could before shit hit the fan. 

The armoury was fully stocked for the first time in ages.

“Why now?”

Everyone looked at Derek.

“Seriously. Why now. According to the theory we’d worked out surrounding the Nemeton, supernatural bullshit is happening at equal intervals from before and after the Nemeton was activated. We’re years away from the next hiccup.”

Chewing that one through his mind, Stiles looked up at the sky, feeling a white haze cloud his vision. In the blink of an eye his sight had cleared, but it was enough to give him a shiver.

“I think…I think it’s related to what I saw when I was dead.”

The collected group stopped walking when he said that. He’d detailed what he could remember about the White Room and everyone had all but memorized it. He was given a passing glimpse at the future, and something about it left him badly shaken. 

“Something is coming, and I don’t think we can prevent it.”

“Then what do you propose we do?”

There was no malice in Deucalion’s question. It was a question born of genuine interest and respect for the person he was asking.

“We fight.”


	2. Road Trip

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The hunt is on for the dark tome that brings the world's passing. With any luck, the Hunter and Witch are on the right track. And some tracks will, in turn, lead you home.

Allison ran through the narrow hallway, eyes focussed on the door at the end, the book tucked firmly under her arm, her hand kept safely away from the cover. There was nothing dangerous about the cover per se, but it left an oily feeling on the skin. The worst part was that it wasn’t even damp. It was the nature of the book. At least that’s what she chalked it up to.

Throwing out her other hand, she caught the doorway and threw herself to the side, letting the people pursuing her rush the open room. Looking across the open door way, she nodded at her partner, tossed the book over, and pulled her bow and arrow from her back. Shooting three charmed arrows at the middle of the room, she ran back into the hallway, and bolted the door shut.

Crouching down, she tucked into a ball and pressed herself against the door as hard as she could. In a percussive wave the door shot off the hinges, throwing her back a good ten feet, but protected from the fire ball that burned around her. Once the air cooled she got up and looked around the burnt remains of the hallway. 

“Not as bad as last time.”

“I’m getting the hang of it. I have to be careful with this stuff. It’s volatile.”

Putting her bow back, Allison walked back to the room that was completely charred, save for a 6 foot circle, holding a red headed witch in the middle of it. 

“I thought all magic was volatile.”

“Okay. Volatile and flammable. That and considering I almost ended the world once, a little closer to the Dark side of things than I like to normally play.”

Nodding her head, she understood the need to avoid certain temptations. However, she’d never nearly ended the world so there was a bit of a discrepancy in what the unlikely pair considered to be ‘close to the dark side.’

“Is this the book you wanted?”

“I hope so.”

Allison gave a slow blink.

“You HOPE so? We just raided a den of fire breathing demons and you aren’t even sure?”

Willow sighed, flipping the book open and skimming the contents.

“It’s not exactly like I can Google, ‘Dark Texts Bringing the Pending Apocalypse - Near Me,’ and get directions to the right one. Besides. Even if it isn’t the right one, that’s one less den of fire breathing demons, terrorizing the innocent people of…whatever town we’re in this time.”

Grimacing, Willow rubbed her hands on her jeans, trying to get rid of the pins and needles sensation it was giving her.

“What gives with the binding of the book? It feels greasy.”

Walking across the burnt room, Allison threw the door open and let the fresh air wash over them. 

“I…think you’ll be happier not knowing.”

Allison rolled her eyes.

“Try me.”

“It’s leather.”

Sighing impatiently.

“I know it’s leather. You can see the pores from the skin of the animal. Why is it greasy though.”

Willow looked out of the corner of her eye.

“Human leather. And if I don’t miss my guess. Virgin skin, likely flayed alive while being tortured with hot pokers in varying…locations…of the body. The greasy feeling you have is your mind telling you not to touch this stuff.”

Allison looked a little green at that.

“What does it feel like for you.”

Willow went pale. Paler than usual.

“Anticipation.”

***

Their mission to find information about the gathering darkness had taken them around the world, several times over. Into forgotten tombs, and through the most dangerous dens and dungeons of countless demons and monsters.

It also lead to a number of visits to Ikea ironically as many of the information brokers they were seeking needed day jobs to support their demon spawn.

When they were able to talk their way through things, they often did, no matter the manner of disgusting creature they were facing. If they had to fight, between Allison’s martial skills and Willow’s magics, they were mostly covered. 

Where things became tricky was when they were left face to face with some of the most evil things the world had produced.

Humans. 

When, where, and as they were able, they tried to avoid situations that would lead to them having to attack a human. Or deal with them in general. But two globetrotting women dressed to do damage often attracted the wrong sort of person. 

Returning to their hotel room, the door was a jar, light bleeding out into the parking lot. The day just kept on getting better. Exchanging a single glance, Allison nodded and took up the lead. Crouching low, she gave a side kick to the door and spun out of the way. 

Experience had taught them both that if someone was pulling a gun as you kicked open a door, they’d shoot chest level. Crouching and kicking the door open avoided a lot of unnecessary getting killed. 

Willow’s eyes had bled out completely black, and she threw what looked like a water balloon through the open door. Closing her eyes and dropping to the ground, there was a bright flash followed by a shimmering blue orb. Looking into the room, there was one person standing in there, holding a book open with a disgusted look on his face. His eyes shifted to look at Allison and Willow as they entered the room. Other than that, he was completely immobilized. 

“What do we have here?”

“A perv going through our frillies and lacies?”

Willow smirked.

“I bet he’s hoping that’s all it was.”

Twisting her hand, the man’s head was freed from the spell. Taking a deep breath in, he coughed hard. The spell had immobilized him. Pretty well completely. Including his ability to breath. 

“Witch!”

Oh it was one of these types. 

“You’ll have to do a bit more damage than that my man..”

“I have your spell book. I can undo anything you throw at me.”

Allison looked at Willow, and almost laughed.

The guy looked between the two women, not exactly thrilled that neither of them were cowering in fear. 

Willow walked further into the room, and pressed her fingers to his forehead. Not that she needed the confirmation, but it wouldn’t be the first time a seemingly powerless person ended up being able to pack a wallop. 

This was not the case.

“Only problem is that you don’t possess the power to do…well…anything in that book.”

Pulling it out of his immobilized hands, she tucked it back in her lead line bag, that had a dozen or more charms etched into the malleable metal. Allison knew better than to touch anything in that bag. They were collecting the darkest of tomes on this journey, and the bag seemed to keep them off other people’s radars. Other people, except the moron they were facing off against right now.

“But I’ll give you a hint. Most magic, works off physics. Physics and a little bit of chemistry. An exchange of energy, needing a catalyst, worked by someone with the skill and ability to take that energy transference and make something out of it.”

Throwing the newest book into the bag, she zipped it up and moved it over to the door.

“You know what else works off physics? And a little chemistry? With the slightest exchange of energy?”

The man was now paler than Willow was in the dead of winter…which was saying something.

Allison for her part watched in amusement as Willow walked back across the room and punched the guy in the face. Biting back her grimace, Willow gave him a bit of a sneer and smile.

“See. Just like magic.”

Allison chuckled under her breath as she grabbed her bags and tossed them in the rental car. Willow grabbed her bag of books and tossed it into the car.

Leaving the guy mostly immobile, Allison and Willow got in the car and pulled out of the motel. Once they were far enough away, Willow started frantically shaking her hand.

“Oww…OW!!! That hurt. That really really hurt. I don’t know how you and Buffy do that all the time.”

Allison snickered under her breath.

“A whole lot of practise. So tell me. Where to next.”

Willow reached over the back seat and went into the bag. After wrestling out their latest acquisition, she read in silence for a few blocks, catching the street lights as they went. Looking up at the highway stretched out in front of them, she sighed a frustrated sigh.

“Sunnydale.”


	3. Playing Field - Interlude 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> At an undisclosed location, the chamber is readied for what will begin the end's beginning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a little teaser...

The pieces were slowly starting to move into place to begin the events that would bring the end. The Five Legendary Wolves would be found and brought to the point of Reverence, and brought down to start the Cleanse. Four of the wolves were known, having been unmasked through their nobility and power. The Brown Wolf remained the elusive one, as it always had through all its incarnations. That was no matter. Their Seer had promised that she would be made known in due course.

A single figure walked into the hallowed hall, taking in the feeling of the space. The etched and carved black marble with the gold and silver in lay. Paths carved into the floor in a specific pattern to harness the energy as it flowed from the sacrificial chamber to the ritual room. 

Opening the doors to the chamber, it was a sight to behold. The chamber itself was carved in the shape of a pentagon. In each segment there were alchemical shapes designed to harness what they needed of each sacrifice in order for them to move on to the next phase. Each area inlaid with precious metals and gemstones representative of each of the Five Wolves. They had waited generations for this, and they were going to enjoy it. 

Passing through the far door, he dropped his hood and looked to the night sky. 

They only had to locate the Brown Wolf of the Desert, and they could begin.


	4. The Desert

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Half a world away, the call to her wolf's blood is almost too much to ignore.
> 
> Almost.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Introducing...the Brown Wolf of the Desert.

There were often two types of runs she typically engaged in. The runs for her health, and the runs for her life. Arguably, running for her life could also be considered running for her life, but she much preferred the health runs that ended with a coffee treat of her choice at the end of it.

This was not going to end with a toffee macchiato and a danish. At least, not as it was appearing to be presently. She didn’t have anyone actively pursuing her, but that didn’t mean there weren’t people watching for her, or seeing where she went. It wasn’t paranoia if people truly WERE out to get you. That’s what she kept telling herself.

Everything she needed was strapped to her back and cinched in tightly around her chest. Not the easiest thing to do when in full wolf mode, but a lifetime of practice had taught her a few skills. To be honest, it was more than just _A_ lifetime of memories that were driving this, but multiple. 

Every time around the karmic cycle, she took with her the memories of who she was in the past. Sometimes male. Sometimes female. Sometimes the good guy and the bad. She was a spirit of neutrality appearing to whichever side needed her. When she was acting alone, it was best to just duck and cover and wait for it to blow over.

But at the core of it all, she was a Wolf. The Desert was her domain. In many ways, unforgiving to the unprepared, but from within, the ability to nurture life that was strong enough to adapt to her was present. 

After centuries of near solitude, and focussing on her Self, the drive to find the other Packs became overwhelming. It had been ages since that last happened. Several life times to be sure. Of the 5 Paths, hers was the one most prone to staying to her self. Even moving so far from the other 4 that her rebirth often took place on the opposite side of the planet from her cohorts.

She sincerely doubted they would recognize her when she arrived. Her only hope was that it wasn’t so long for them all that she wouldn’t recognize them either.

Her intelligence network had informed her that they were all acquainted with each other, and indeed the White Wolf of the Woods and the Black Wolf of the Valley had gotten married in the last couple of years. Certain patterns seemed to repeat themselves. She herself had been present at their wedding before. Many times. They seemed to make a lovely couple. 

It was, however, incredibly dangerous (or stupid) for the five of them to be together. Through the centuries, the most she’d ever connected with was 3. That alone had been enough to cost them dearly. It had taken almost three lifetimes for the Red Wolf of the City to recover enough to manifest in this world. 

Her compatriots were drawn together a lot more frequently than she’d ever liked, in any of their past lives. It made them a target for Hunters, though that would just cause them to restart on their reincarnation cycle. There were other things…other Beings…that saw them as a spiritually charged collective that only got more powerful when they were in closer proximity to each other. 

This time around, they seemed to be gathered in the United States. Which would explain why she was born, this time at least, in Australia.

Stopping and taking a breath behind a dumpster, she moved off to the shadows, and willed her human form to come back. Stretching, relishing the popping of her joints, she looked up at the sky with her still-wolf looking eyes. Quickly donning her human disguise, she came around the corner and made way for the airport. Her flight to L.A. was in a couple hours and she had to clear through security yet. Thankfully she was travelling light.

Anything she needed, she could always buy when she landed. Taking a look at the note her mate had scribbled into her phone, she smiled briefly at the photograph of her husband and their children. The call to go to almost the other side of the world was strong. Her need to stay behind with her family was stronger. It had taken a lot of talk. A lot of conversation. A lot of understanding. It also took a lot of scowling, and her husband booking her the bloody ticket, using all their frequent flyer points to get her the upgrade to first class that she always loved. She revelled in her solitude through the centuries, but true to her wolf nature, she always sought a pack.

This was her body calling out for the Pack she had been in thousands of years ago, that seemed to recollect at random without her. Her family was important. And they were Pack too. But there came a time when you had to move beyond just looking after yourself and step into the role you knew you were born to.

Free will…with a twist.

Everything she held dear would be in danger, if she ignored the danger she knew was coming.

You only had so much daylight before the world spun in to darkness.

But the adage was also true.

It is always darkest before the dawn.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> But the ultimate question is...who is she?


	5. Destination Not Found

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Piece are moving across the chess board, bringing one faction in closer and closer together. Will the consolidation of power help them in the end?

“No. No Will…Willow. Just come turn around and come back here. Yeah. You’re not more than about an hour and a half away if that’s the sign that you saw. No. Nope. I see it right here on the old map. GPS doesn’t have it because of obvious reasons, but I still see Sunnydale plain as day here. Yeah. Yup. I’ll see you when you get back. Say hi to Allison for us. Yup. See you.”

Stiles hit the end button on his phone and slid it back into his pocket. That was weird. Very weird. Thumping down on the couch, he was chewing his thumb nail that kept regrowing once he got it short enough. A blessing and a curse of being a werewolf he surmised. Granted if that’s all he had to worry about and be annoyed by then he was absolutely winning at that “Life” thing. 

Derek looked up the digital bestiary to see if there was anything regarding the end of the world that the Argents had learned about in the last few hundred years. Not too surprisingly, it was fairly lacking in the information department. Setting the tablet aside, he turned his focus on Stiles.

“No luck in Sunnydale…or what’s left of it anyway?”

“They can’t get there.”

This got Derek’s attention.

“What do you mean they can’t get there. The highway is a straight dead end to the crater that was left when it collapsed in on itself. We know this. We’ve been there.”

Stiles merely nodded his head. He’d gone on that trip. It was a pretty impressive looking crater as far as craters were concerned.

“Every time they get close, they find themselves miles away, facing the opposite direction. They’ve made a few attempts and even recorded a couple of them. There’s no lost time or footage or anything like that. Just…on the road somewhere else. They’re about an hour away and are just going to come back to the house.”

Derek felt the hair on the back of his neck stand on end. That could not be good. Could not be good at all. Sitting on the couch, he rested his head on Stiles’ shoulder, trying to not let his mind go overboard.

“Obviously there’s something there that someone doesn’t want us to find. Either it’s supposed to help us, or it could be what kicks off this entire mess. So someone with a lot of power does not want us to stumble on their little secret. One way or the other.”

“And of course the risk of pursuing it any further could cause the same issue that we are trying to avoid. But conversely not looking into it could cause the same damage. Damned if we do, damned if we don’t.”

Looking back behind them, they saw Deucalion walk into the room, crunching into an apple. Settling himself in one of the overstuffed arm chairs, he draped a leg over the arm of the chair, taking another bite of the apple. 

“There has to be another alternative. Things aren’t typically this black and white.”

The three sat in silence, chewing through the puzzle at their feet. If They, whoever They were, didn’t want them looking into this, then They should have covered their tracks a little bit better. The sound of the ceiling fan was accompanied by Deuc eating his apple, but the tension was thick enough you could cut it with a knife. When Scott arrived, looking equally as perplexed though not too sure why, he chalked it up to the fact everyone else was chewing through their own thoughts on the matter. 

Slowly other members of the pack joined them in the living room, all seemingly connected in their thoughts, trying to solve the question of the hour. They’d proven in the past that the more of them that gathered, the more likely they were to arrive at an answer they’d all be able to live with. There simply wasn’t enough information this time around for them to get past the paradox they were facing when it came to Sunnydale.

As time passed by, Ethan was the first to hear the crunching of gravel up the drive way. There had been a debate on paving it, but they all agreed on the tactical advantage of having loose gravel on the approach. There was also the agreement that it was a pain in the ass to shovel or snow blow in the winter. Tactical advantage (and parking in the garage) out weighed convenience…and unbroken windshields.

The smell of ozone and green things was accompanied by the scent of roses and redwood. Willow and Allison had returned.

There was a jingle of keys as they entered the house, pulling up short when they saw what amounted to 3 packs, and 4 Alphas all in the massively expansive living room. The glowing eyes that were on high alert faded to their more human colours as the two young ladies entered the room. Deucalion, Stile, Derek and Scott immediately got to their feet. It was a subconscious sign of respect for the Witch and the Hunter. Though everyone had taken to calling Allison and her father, “Defenders,” they were still rethinking the title. Sounded too Comic Book for the serious business they were about.

“What have you learned?”

Diplomacy was still a work in progress.

Undeterred, Willow pulled the lead lined bag from her back and started fussing with the locks.

“Not nearly enough I’m afraid, but I think I have the book that we’re looking for. We picked up a dozen tomes but this is the only one that feels…”

Willow rolled her shoulders, uncomfortable with the feelings that it drew out of her.

“…it feels like it’s waiting to be used.”

Allison flinched as Willow pulled the book out and set it on the coffee table. Derek made a note to buy a new coffee table in the morning, and set fire to this one. Every wolf in the room smelled the human flesh in the leather and moved rather obviously to the other side of the room. Taking a pinch of black dust from a white silk satchel, Willow sprinkled it over the book while muttering in Latin. With a flash the book disappeared from sight. It was, they knew from experience, in Willow’s vault hidden SOMEWHERE on the property. Everyone in the room became notably more relaxed.

“What have you learned from it Will?”

Stiles and Derek sat back down, followed by Deucalion and then Scott. 

“There’s not a lot I could translate on the drive. It looks like it’s proto-Sumerian that’s been transcribed using the Linear B model. All I’ve been able to decipher is that there is an altar room and it needs power. Something about a sacrifice of power, and the protection of the chamber. It’s…it’s going to take some doing, but too much reading of it isn’t good.”  
Stiles looked grimly at his cousin.

“On a scale of zero to Dark Willow?”

“Off the chart.”

“Not good.”

Willow smiled a little sarcastically. 

“Pretty sure that’s what I said. I’ll work on it, but probably going to have to set up some kind of protection ward to keep me from losing it. The book calls me to use it, even if I don’t entirely know how just yet. That’s can’t be a coincidence.”

Shaking his head, Stiles opened his mouth to say something, but found himself interrupted by the lilting tone of an Australian accent.

“I should certainly say not. But there is every real chance that you may be the key to unlocking this all.”

The werewolves found themselves on the defensive, eyes glowing various shades of gold, blue and red.   
The woman merely stood there, completely unperturbed by the demonstration of strength she was witnessing. Her own eyes slowly started to glow, but her face and claws didn’t shift, unlike the other wolves.

“Now now boys. Is that anyway to greet a long lost cousin?”

Smiling broadly, there was a flash of light, and a rolling wave of pressure. The woman’s already chestnut hair seemed to grow richer in colour. Derek’s already black hair became a deeper tone, almost pulling a hint of blue, it was so black. Stiles’ remaining hair went from brown to white. Whiter than midwinter snow in Canada. Scott’s hair took on the same grey tones that his wolf form sported, and Deucalion’s hair shifted to almost flaming red. Red enough to match his eyes.

“I was wondering if that would happen again.”

They all looked at each other with confusion.

“This is the first time in thousands of years that we’ve been together, I can’t be too surprised if you don’t remember me.”

Stiles stepped forward. He was, if anything, one of the more diplomatic people in the room. Willow for her part was analyzing the magic that seemed to have just been worked in front of her. The various Betas moved in to rank and file behind the current acting Lead Alpha, while the stranger simply appeared to be more amused than anything.

“Who the fuck are you and what the fuck are you doing in our house?”

“The Who is a little more complicated to explain. As for the what. I thought it obvious.”

She shrugged.

“I’m here to save the world. Want to come?"


	6. Q&A

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The unexpected visitor has a name and a story to tell to the assembled Packs. Is she friend or foe? What secrets does she carry? Is she the key to this...or just another piece of the puzzle.

“Impedimenta!”

Willow flung her hand forward, giving focus and purpose to the magic she had pooled in her hand. At once, carefully carved runes glowed with the power she supplied, tracing through the landing where the Stranger stood. The crown moulding, the baseboard, and the accent pieces in the corners of the room flashed with her intent, and created a cube of contained power, holding this stranger captive.

The Australian looked around at the temporary prison, and quirked an eyebrow.   
“I’m impressed. Most of the Druid emissaries aren’t this involved with their Packs.”

Willow shook her head.

“I’m not a Druid. Or their Emissary.”

She dutifully left out what she actually was. It was…difficult…because most terms fell pretty short of what she actually was.   
With the visitor secured, the effect she seemed to have had on the other 4 Alphas wolves was dulled somewhat, but the effect was still lingering. For her part, she sat on the floor, legs crossed, looking like she was half expecting this reaction.

“Emma.”

Derek stepped forward.

“Pardon?”

“The name’s Emma. Since you’re probably going to step into the other room that is no doubt blocked by conventional or magical means to keep me from hearing you, you should at least have a name to call me instead of ‘Her,’ or ‘The Australian’ or any other such foolishness. Emma Baker at your service. Or at your leisure I would guess since I’m not going anywhere any time soon.”

Deucalion growled slightly under his breath as that was exactly what they were planning on doing. Putting his hand on his hips, he worried his bottom lip. Stepping forward, his eyes glowing a faint red to show his annoyance he stepped closer to the barricade. For a great many reasons, Willow was the only one who could breach the barrier. It helped keep the wolves from losing their collective shit on the person in the cage. The fact the current occupant looked like she was ready to lead them in a yoga class was definitely a change of pace. ALMOST relaxing in a sense. Which made him even more nervous.

“What are you doing here?”

Looking up at Deucalion, there was a perplexed look on her face for all of half a second.

“I’ll answer your question if you agree to answer mine. Tit for tat as it were.”

“Fine. What are you doing here?”

“I told you. I’m here to help save the world, assuming you’re on board with that goal. My question. You’re the City Wolf aren’t you.”

Deucalion felt his eyes narrow in annoyance before huffing and nodding once.

“It’s been said. Yes. Specifically, how are you here to help save the world?”

Emma smiled. She’d guessed it. The flaming red hair DID somewhat give it away, but in some of her past incarnations, even though she was the Brown Wolf of the Desert, her hair had been fire red, and raven black on occasion. Some of it came down to the actual birth parents. Stiles was a prime example. White Wolf of the Wood, but his hair was almost as brown as hers.

“By reconnecting with the other 4 Legendary Wolves, and their Packs and Allies, my hope is to take out whatever is trying to expose us and throw the Balance off kilter, so I can go back home to my husband and kids.”

Stiles took a half step forward.

“What are the Legendary Wolves?”

Turning her attention to him, she nodded at Stiles, Derek, Scott, Deucalion, and then indicated herself.

“We embody varying facets of the world. Woods, Valleys, Plains, Cities, and Deserts. Combined, there are 5 of us. At various times in history, we’ve banded together to prevent or bring destruction, to help maintain harmony with humanity and the wild. As werewolves, we carry that balance in ourselves every day. We also have our Druid Emissaries to help keep us connected to our humanity, and help maintain Order.”

Turning and looking at Deucalion, she slowly got to her feet.

“Even when it’s a misguided effort.”

Pressing her hand to the barrier, she felt its strength. She was not getting out unless Willow okayed it. She knew not to push a witch. They were allies. For good or ill.

“You are the White Wolf of the Woods. I would know you, in any face. It’s been a long time.”

She smiled softly. The White Wolf was the rarest of their number to manifest in the world. It took an exceptionally pure spirit to host the spirit.

“How many packs are consolidated under this roof?”

“There are 3 packs in and amongst these grounds and in this house. As well as humans, a Druid, and a Witch. 4 Alphas. 5 including you now.”

Before Stiles could ask a follow up, Willow walked up to the barrier. In her hand was a matrix of energy, but it seemed to be a source of information for her.

“How old are you, and how old is your Wolf?”

Emma smiled back. It had been a long time since she’s met someone adept enough to figure out that distinction.

“I am 43 years young, though it is REALLY impolite to ask a woman her age as you know. My Wolf is a great deal older than that. I don’t know our exact age, but nearly 8,000 years, give or take a century or two. To answer another question, for free, I was born a Wolf in this incarnation, but I have been bitten before and brought to consciousness that way as well. Like every Werewolf, I am a being of two spirits, but the wolf in me remembers all the eyes I have stared our of and stared into.”

“You said our age instead of your own.”

Fixing her gaze on Willow, she smiled slightly.

“Three of your friends who are chomping at the bit to get as much information out of me as they can, and I are all the same age. The White Wolf of the Woods, The Black Wolf of the Valley, and the Grey Wolf of the Plains. The Red Wolf of the City is younger than us, but only by a millennia or so. Which is mildly amusing to me as right now you are actually the eldest of us all. Black Wolf. I believe you have a question that you aren’t sharing with the class.”

Derek stepped forward, quieter than one would expect. 

“Why don’t any of use remember you?”

“Not quite what I was expecting. Maybe you’ve finally learned patience after all these years. But your mate probably helps with that.”

She nodded at Stiles.

“We had agreed, about four thousand years ago, that the collective weight of carrying our memories forward was leading us to stupid decisions. We’d seek each other out and ignore what was around us. If one of us wasn’t reborn in our generation, or likely born on the other side of the world, we’d stop functioning. So we enlisted our Emissaries at the time, witches like our Fire Brand here, to essentially draw straws. One of us would have to remember, but the other four would be suppressed. The memories are there, but deep under the surface. At the time, we’d survived one hell of a battle and I drew the winning lot. We managed to live to a ripe old age and when we died and I woke up, looking out of the eyes of a young man just barely in his teens, looking at the bite mark on my leg rapidly close, I knew that I was far away from you all.”

Reaching into her bag, she pulled out a bottle of water. Taking a sip she continued.

“That was the other part of it. We needed to spread out separately. Through the eons, we would occasionally run into one another. Sometimes your memories would surface. Other times they wouldn’t. But I recognize you all, given time, without fail. This is the first time in a long LONG while the 5 of us have been together.”

The collective group fell silent. 

“Do you know what we’re facing?”

Scott’s question was simple, but it articulated what they were all thinking.

Shaking her head.

“I’m sorry. I don’t. I just felt the need to come here, now, and try and gather you together. Fate, it would appear, was onboard with my mission and gathered you all together for me to find years ago. My question.”

She sighed softly.

“You trust me enough to let me out?”

Without a word, Willow reached out and broke the spell, letting the magic flow back through her, and disperse into the Earth below her feet.

Stiles bit his thumbnail hard enough to draw blood. Pausing for a second as the minor wound knitted he looked at the other four Alphas.

“If we’ve known each other for the better part of 7 or 8 thousand years, and we’ve collectively been suppressing the last 4 thousand or so. It begs asking the question. What can you tell us about ourselves?”

Emma smiled broadly.

“I’m thought you would never ask.”


	7. Interlude - Home Stories

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These will get fleshed out as I work through this story.

Moving into the dining room where the absolutely massive table was set up, Derek and Stiles took their place at the head of the table, everyone else filled in from there. Emma sat near the head to make it easier to address the entire group. They’d exchanged names so they were all on the same page as to who was who. Humans, and Wolves alike. Taking the offered cup of coffee, Emma gathered her legs under her on the seat, and thought about where to begin.

“As I said. Eight thousand years ago, give or take, we were assembled in a village whose name has been lost to time and the desert. We were regarded largely as the village’s protectors, but we also took on the roles of Chiefs, priests and priestesses, and eventually destroyers. Humans are a bit of a messy lot and sometimes to keep things in balance, we had to bring down destruction on our own people. As general knowledge of the supernatural faded from the consciousness of humanity, we were called on less and less do be the destroyers. The last time that happened, we were behind the fall of Rome.”

Turning to Deucalion.

“You were less than thrilled with that as you’d been born to Rome about 6 times at that point.”

Deucalion let out a small chuckle. He could see being less than amused if he’d been called on to raze LA after spending much of this lifetime defending it.

“But what about each of us specifically. If we are, as you say, the Legendary Wolves, then reincarnation aside, there’s got to be more to know. What were we like? Why us? I mean….there has to be thousands of other people who could have manifested these specific wolves. What is it about us that has made us…this?”

“Into each generation, the wolf spirit finds a particular soul it is willing to meld with, in all our cases. When I’m bitten into wolf hood, before that point my wolf doesn’t exist within me. Doesn’t even lay dormant. There is rarely much of a pattern to predict who will be born where or how. Certain things are usually consistent though.

“The White Wolf, for example, will only come to a person with a remarkably pure soul. We are talking squeaky clean. It’s a rare thing, but usually the person it chooses to inhabit would be the last person to ask for power or strength. You were also the one who convinced us to use the Druids as our emissaries to keep us connected to the people we sought to defend. 75% of the time you’re a bitten wolf. The other 25% you’re born. You are humble to a fault. I would guess that you only ever wanted to help people, and were content to let your friends and lovers stand in the lime light?”

Stiles had to reluctantly agree.

“The Black Wolf, in contrast, is typically a born wolf, who faces a life time of hardship and pain until he finds his mate. Coincidentally, about 85% of the time, you end up mated to the White Wolf when he or she manifests. He, or she, depending on the reincarnation, serves as your anchor, and in some instances, your morality. While not always the most forthcoming with your plans, your intentions are pure and you would do anything to help those you love. Humility also not your strong suit.”

Turning to Scott, she had a slightly amused look on her face.

“Grey Wolf. You are 50/50 born or bitten. At either case, the Grey Wolf itself doesn’t manifest until you’re around 20 years old, regardless of being bitten or born as a werewolf. Sometimes later, depending on how old you were when you were bitten. You have a strange connection to your humanity in that you don’t need a Druid emissary for that, but instead need one to guide you through your wolf side. You’re kind, and sweet…but sometimes…well…naive. You want to see the best in everyone even to your own detriment.”

Turning to Deucalion.

“The Red Wolf. The baby of the family. You are born a wolf 75% of the time, bitten 25%. We found you when we were collectively born near Tell Brak. You told the White Wolf of the time about being reborn and seeing through different eyes each time you came about. You have a tendency towards your darkness and have manifested a number of times as the Demon Wolf of legend. Sometimes we are able to rescue you from the darkness. Other times…”

She flicked a non-existent piece of fluff off the table.  
“Other times we’ve each individually put you down. I much prefer when we can rehabilitate you, as it appears this group has done.”

Deucalion had to acknowledge that. It wasn’t comforting to know that he was predisposed to that sort of behaviour.  
“And. What of yourself?”

“What of me?”

“What about the Brown Wolf of the Desert.”

Looking at Stiles and Derek, she smiled a mysterious smile.

“In due time.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A short little teaser as I sort out a few things at home. Don't worry. I haven't forgotten this.

**Author's Note:**

> Will write for feedback. The good kind preferred as it is fuel to keep this going.


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